


Judge a Book

by ifdragonscouldtalk



Category: Avengers Assemble (Cartoon), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Gen, Multiverse, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-17
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-12-03 09:54:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11529822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ifdragonscouldtalk/pseuds/ifdragonscouldtalk
Summary: Tony doesn't know where he is... or more specifically, he knows where he is, but he doesn't know why the workshop looks different. And why another version of himself is there, with a ring matching Steve Rogers'...Written for tumblr user agenderraskel, title by user thealextheshipper





	Judge a Book

His workshop looked different. There was less glass, more lighting. Why did it look different? 

 “FRIDAY,” he called out anxiously, clutching at the edge of the closest workshop table tightly. “FRIDAY!” 

 “ _Yes, sir,_ ” an A.I. responded after a moment of what could be considered hesitation. “ _Excuse me, sir. I’m not entirely sure how you got in here? I do not recognize your facials. Please explain who you are or I will be forced to take countermeasures against you._ ” Tony’s breath hitched in his chest. No, no this was some sort of nightmare. It had to be. This couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t lose this as well. 

 “It’s- I-I’m Tony. It’s Tony. Who- d-did I make you last night? Where’s FRI?” 

 “What’s the issue, J?” someone shouted as the banged open the doors to the workshop (banged open, they weren’t automatic, what was happening, what was happening). Tony flinched at the loud noise, pressing back into the table behind him, staring wildly at the newcomers. He probably should’ve been drawn, most immediately, to the shorter man standing in front, who looked shockingly like him. Instead, his eyes went to the man standing directly behind him, a hand on his shoulder – blond, blue-eyed, built like a brick shithouse, with a mouth downturned in disappointment or something similar. A litany of  _no_ s filled his brain as he tried to push back into the table farther, fumbling with his repulsor watch and pointing it. His hand was shaking, it wouldn’t stop; he grabbed his wrist with his other hand, trying to hold it steady, swallowing desperately and urging himself to keep his voice from shaking as well. 

 “W-What the fuck are you doing here?” It came out more like a gasp and he definitely sounded scared, fuck it, he didn’t care, he never wanted to be in the same room with Steve again and he should know why, some friends they were. “Stay the fuck a-away from me.” 

 “Oh my God,” the dark haired man gasped. “Steve, Steve look what he _did!_  He made a portable repulsor! How much power output can you get out of that? I bet not as much of the suit. Doesn’t it have a hell of a kickback?” 

 “Tony,” Steve said fondly, squeezing the man’s shoulder. “Calm down, babe. Maybe I should go?” Tony’s hand was still shaking, but he wouldn’t lower the repulsor. It wouldn’t do much to Captain America, he knew that, but it made him feel safer, if only marginally. And then he noticed the rings. They were matching rings, and yeah he knew this was probably an alternate universe but that was… He looked at his other self, his shoulders starting to shake. 

 “What is he doing to you? I-is he threatening you? I’ll help. What about Bruce and Pepper? Y-You should tell them- Don’t let him hurt you-” The men were wearing identical looks of horror on their faces. 

 “Jesus, no!” his alternate self cried. “Steve is a sweetheart! Like he’d ever hurt me.” He scoffed.

“… Y-yeah,” Tony breathed shakily. “Like he’d ever hurt us.” 

 “Tony,” the other Steve said softly, “I clearly have.” He looked torn, sounded broken by the realization. It meant nothing. Tony knew how good he was at acting, at lying. Knew how good both of them were. How did he know his other self wasn’t lying? How did he know it wasn’t abusive? He couldn’t trust Steve, and he definitely couldn’t trust himself. The other Tony was studying him, his face falling. 

“What did he do to you?” he asked, with a seriousness that was completely unusual on them. “What did he do?” Tony shook his head, licking his lips and looking between the two. 

“What is  _he_  doing to  _you_? And how did I get here?” 

“ _He_  is my husband and tells me how good I am and how hard I’m trying every day and how proud he is of me. And I don’t know how you got here. What did Rogers do to you?” Tony could feel his breathing quickening, trying to force down the memories, the bile. 

“He lied,” he hissed out through clenched teeth. “And then he left me in the middle of Russia in a dead suit. He turned everyone against me. I have  _nothing_  because of Steve fucking Rogers.” He shuddered, his entire body shaking, his eyes glazed over. “He would’ve killed me. He would’ve killed me and he wouldn’t have r-regretted-” His voice broke. Steve made a strange sound. The other Tony was leaning back into his husband, seeking comfort. A wave of jealousy swept over him like nausea. 

“How… How did he kill the suit?” 

“He slammed his shield into the arc reactor,” he spat, trying to feel anger instead of panic. “I thought it was coming for my neck.” Steve looked sickly. 

“Why didn’t JARVIS call someone?” Tony’s breath escaped him. 

“JARVIS is dead. He’s… There was an issue. A guy named Ultron, and-” Oh no. He was going to break down, and he really didn’t want to do that. His other self let out a high keening sound, clutching at Steve. 

“JARVIS is gone?” he whispered, looking about a broken up about it as Tony felt. 

“ _I am right here, sir_ ,” the A.I. from before spoke calmly, and Tony jumped, almost firing his repulsor by accident. He quickly lowered his hand. 

“Right. Right. I forgot.” 

“Tony,” Steve muttered, nuzzling his hair gently, clearly trying to calm him down. “It’s alright.”

“It’s not!” he shouted, and Tony flinched again, backing up. “Look, l-look… That could be  _me_  Steve. That  _is_  me.” 

“It’s not.” 

“ _Steve_.” 

“I would like to go home now,” Tony interrupted quietly, trying to force down his trembling. “Can we work on that? Where’s Bruce, I’m sure he’ll help.” His other self glared at him so ferociously he was shocked. 

“No. You aren’t going back. I won’t let you.” 

“I have to. There are people that need me – Spider-Man, do you know Spidey? He needs me, and I h-have to fix the Accords and get the others back because there’s  _something_  coming and-”

“No.” 

“The- The kid needs me! He fucking  _needs_  me! He almost killed 200 people on a boat the other day and I can’t leave him alone with that!” 

“Wait, what?” Steve said, bewildered. Tony waved his hands, frantic. 

“It was an accident, there was an arms deal and he was trying to stop it but… He needs me and, and I have to get the Avengers back because Earth is in danger!” 

“Listen,” the other Tony said as he walked forward. Tony resisted the urge to back away. “They don’t deserve you. Earth doesn’t need you. You know how many times we’ve saved this stupid planet? If they don’t want you, don’t let them have you.” 

“Spidey-… Pep and I are, I think we might be engaged…” 

“Do you want to go back?”

“I c-can’t stay here. Peter needs me. You don’t understand. He needs me, he’s only a kid.” The other Tony looked like he was about to say something else, but Steve interrupted, shaking his head. 

“Let’s talk about this later. You’ve been shaking since we got here, Tony, let’s go upstairs and get you something okay?” 

* * *

There was no Bruce. Thor stayed in the tower full-time. Sam used to work for him, apparently. Natasha was absent, as always. Clint wore strange purple sunglasses and was far more cheerful than the Clint Tony knew. The tower itself was warm colors and comfortable furnishings, unlike Tony’s. 

Currently he was wrapped up in a blanket that Hulk had basically forced him into, sitting on the couch with the other Tony on one side, babbling in his ear. Clint had forced some famous hot chocolate into his hands, and he drank it just to have something to do (Clint beamed when he said it was delicious). Surprisingly, he actually was feeling better. Steve stayed on the other side of the room, even though the other Tony looked a little upset by it. They were watching the news now, some crap station that seemed to only report on Spider-Man. 

And once the adrenaline was gone… he was comfortable. Hearing JARVIS again, listening to the others laugh, and seeing himself, whole, unbroken. He could’ve had this. He did have this, somewhere, apparently. 

He needed to go home. He had responsibilities and things he needed to take care of. But it was so nice here. They didn’t hate him. Sam called him Mr. Stark, Clint sometimes called him Boss. Steve said Tony with so much affection it hurt. 

He was tired. He was so tired. 

He leaned into his other self, unaware of the voices suddenly cutting off, and drifted off to sleep, nightmares, for once, letting him lie. 


End file.
